


Dorian's No Good, Very Bad Day

by Elthadriel



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 18:13:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8500105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elthadriel/pseuds/Elthadriel
Summary: Bull is Dorian's nemesis, ruining his life one mild inconvenience at a time.





	

**Author's Note:**

> SarahWhat and I have been coming up with an unreasonably amount of aus recently. I figured I should actually write one of them.

It was him, again, _The Qunari._

 

The hand Dorian was holding his shopping list in tightened and the paper scrunched up in his grip. Why was he here? Why was he always here? The qunari had caused enough inconvenience to him already, and Dorian refused to pause in his shopping just because his nemesis was standing by the dairy products.

 

Tilting his chin up, deliberately not looking at the qunari, scanning the shelves for the chocolate milk. He knew he shouldn’t be buying it, lactose being one of the many things his body didn’t agree with, but he had had a really hard week, and he would have chocolate milk if he damn well wanted to. He frowned when he couldn’t see it.

 

Something brushed his shoulder and he startled, realising he had drifted closer to the qunari in his hunt for the milk. The qunari smiled without really looking him and muttered a quick, “Sorry, Big Guy.”

 

Dorian didn’t hear him, staring at the thing in the qunari’s hands. The bastard was holding what appeared to be the last bottle of chocolate milk. Dorian stood rooted to the spot, watching as the qunari made a decision over the milk, before tucking it into his basket.

 

“You get it chief?” A voice called from behind them both. The qunari turned, and started walking away from a still frozen Dorian.

 

“Yeah, it’s not the brand they like, but it’ll do.”

 

Dorian wondered how much trouble he would get in if he tried to kill a man over some milk.

 

\---

 

Dorian was running late for work.

 

It was his fault, he taken a longer shower than he should have. He should still make it in time, assuming traffic was kind to him, which it looks like it might be.

 

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, waiting for the light to change. One last car turned out in front of him, an ugly shade of pastel orange, before the light mercifully turned green. Dorian followed the orange car to the next set of lights.

 

It was only as they stopped again, and Dorian had nothing better to do than stare at the car in front, that he recognised the silhouette of the driver’s horns. Dorian swore loudly. After the milk incident only a week before, it was really too soon for the damned qunari to ruin his day again.

 

The qunari started moving in front of him again, and Dorian, glaring holes into the back of it followed. The qunari stayed frustratingly to the speed limit, while Dorian anxiously checked the time.

 

“Kaffas, no!” Dorian yelled, slamming a hand on the wheel, though not the horn. The qunari’s ugly car slowed as they approached a junction, not to turn off, but to let a bus out in front of both of them.

 

The bus driver was apparently even more of a careful driver than the qunari, and they found themselves all driving five below the speed limit. When they reached the next light, both the bus and the qunari made it through the light changed, while Dorian found himself stuck sitting at a red.

 

This time it was his head he banged off the wheel. He was going to be late.

 

\---

 

Dorian liked to leave the office during his lunch break if he could. He wasn’t a huge fan of outside in general, but staying cooped up in the rather bland building he worked in all day was even less appealing. He didn’t tend to go far, just down to the café round the corner, and eat there, rather than at his desk.

 

Just a little change of scenery to help him relax.

 

Every muscle in Dorian’s body tensed up. Was the qunari stalking him?

 

The large man was ambling casually down the street towards Dorian, as if his presence didn’t automatically make Dorian’s day measurably worse. There was a man at his side, nodding as the qunari talked loudly.

 

They got close and closer until they were passing each other. “Nah, Krem, all I’m saying is Tethras’ latest book was a cop-out. Just some quick, lazy storytelling to finish up the series so he can move on to the more popular stuff.”

 

Dorian felt the heat rise in his cheeks. Who the hell did that qunari think he was? Varric’s latest novel was fantastic. Trust a lummox like that to think that a happy ending was a cop-out. Dorian almost back to tell him as such, before realising that was probably exactly what the man wanted. He had been in front of Dorian in the queue for at the bookshop when Dorian had been buying it, doing the most complicated return, holding up the queue for well over twenty minutes.

 

With a snarl, Dorian marched towards the café.

 

\---

 

Dorian tapped his foot anxiously, taking another mouthful of the water the waiter had poured for him when he sat down. He shouldn’t have trusted Sera to set him up with someone. The Iron Bull didn’t even sound like a real name, he probably didn’t exist, this was probably a huge joke at his expense.

 

“Hey, you must be Dorian,” a voice rumbled from his right before a qunari, _the qunari,_ dropped into the seat opposite him. “I’m the Iron Bull.”

 

Dorian gaped, swallowed, opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, and swallowed again. “You!” he finally spat out.

 

“Err, me?” The qunari, the Iron Bull, said, eyes wide, innocent, as if he didn’t know exactly what Dorian was talking about.

 

“You’ve been causing me problems for months! Did Sera set you up to this?” Dorian demanded.

 

Bull looked a little concerned. “Think you might have the wrong person there, Big Guy, I’m not sure we’ve met before.”

 

Dorian weighed up the pros and cons of trying to kill Bull with a fork, and screaming until he was asked to leave. He finally settled on being the reasonable one in the situation. “You expect me to believe that! You’re everywhere, taking my parking spot, cutting in front of me in line! You cock blocked me last month!”

 

Bull frowned. “I cock blocked you?”

 

“Yes! I was finally going to break this blasted dry spell, but apparently you live in the same building as my date, and needed to make cookies, and set of the fucking fire alarm!” Dorian was sure he was going unattractively red in the face, but he was too caught up in finally confronting Bull that he hardly cared.

 

“I think you might be seeing a pattern where there isn’t one.”

 

“You expect me to believe this is entirely coincidental? I have a dozen occasions when you have inconvenienced me, and you are claiming you don’t know me?”

 

“I only know you as ‘Sera’s friend.’ Cross my heart.” Bull did a ridiculous crossing motion over his chest.

 

Dorian deflated. “You have no idea who I am? Truly?”

 

“Really no idea. Sorry.” Bull reached across the table and patted Dorian’s hand. It was large enough that Dorian’s was almost completely hidden under it.

 

There was a long silence as Dorian stared down at the table, re-evaluating his whole life.

 

“So,” Bull said at last, “you still need to break that dry spell?”  
  
Dorian’s head shot up, gaping at Bull all over again.

 

Bull grinned at him. “Want me to help?”

 

Dorian blushed and quickly grabbed his menu, and ducked his head behind it.

 

One date couldn’t hurt.


End file.
